Turquoise
by Nicholas Tanski
Summary: A simple ride through Corneria City turns deadly and leads to Fox and Falco discovering a new war brewing in the background of Corneria. They and the rest of the team must act before the first shots are fired and more civilians perish.


Turquoise

by

Nicholas Tanski

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The roads were killer and Fox had no idea why. Every driver seemed to be going 15 above the speed limit and swerving like they were trying to escape a madman with a blowtorch.

"What the hell?!" Fox let out as a reflex when one of them cut him off.

His sudden braking sent off a chorus of squeals from the brakes of the cars behind him. A horn honked a few cars back.

"Jeeze. What are these people on?" Falco asked as his seat belt stiffened from braking.

Just as the final word of the sentence left his mouth, a police car whizzed past them with its lights and siren going. Fox scoffed.

"I was wondering when the first EMT siren would sound; these people are driving like it's doomsday or something."

"Yeah."

"I'm sure you're glad that I'm the one driving." Fox said; he had taken the wheel just out of habit.

"Yeah, I'll bet we're both glad – I don't have a license, remember?"

Fox glanced at Falco for a moment then returned his gaze to the road.

"You don't have a license?"

A quizzical look appeared on Falco's face. He paused for a second.

"You're telling me you didn't know that? No, I never really had a reason to get one. By the time I was 17, I was already flying."

"...wait, but what about that time on Fortuna?"

"Well, it's really easy to fake it when you're trying to outrun a group of gun-totting maniacs. I just pressed the gas."

"Huh. I didn't…"

Before Fox could finish the sentence, something in the distance caught his eye. Before he could ask if it had caught Falco's too, he got the answer.

"What the hell is that?"

"I don't know" Fox replied, "Looks like there are at least 50 of them.

50. 50 people in a large group on the sides of the road. Some were spilling out into the actual lanes and causing a wave of honking horns and angry shouts. All of the traffic seemed to stop and it was suddenly quiet enough to hear that the people were chanting something.

"You think it's some kind of protest?" Falco asked.

Fox honestly didn't know and said as much.

"I don't know…a few of them are holding signs, aren't they?"

Falco had to squint and shield his eyes from the sun to make it out, but some of them were in fact holding and waving signs. He couldn't quite read what was printed on them, though. The traffic started and stopped in jerky motions and they slowly crept closer and closer to whatever was going on. When they were about 500 feet away, it became clear why the traffic was so jerky; a uniformed Corneria Defense Force officer flanked the passing lane and was stopping the passing cars.

"Is he CDF?" Falco asked.

Fox strained his eyes and was able to make out the red and black seal on the shoulder of the officer's uniform.

"Yeah…I wonder what's going on…"

The officer signaled for the passing drivers to roll the window down, there was an exchange, and then the driver went on their way. As they neared closer and closer, Fox started getting really curious as to what was happening.

"Falco, roll your window down."

With the hard glass replaced by a cool, gentle breeze, the sound of the group's words became amplified and clear.

"Hamażąrę! Reds go home! Hamażąrę! Reds go home!"

Fox and Falco exchanged looks.

"Hamażąrę?" Falco asked, butchering the actual pronunciation of the word with his Cornerian accent "What's the hell is this about?"

Hamażąrę was the name of a small factory-town on Venom. It was the location of (and nickname for) an "event" that had taken place a month or two ago involving a group of rebels from Katina that named themselves "Ħatsma" (literally "devil's eyes" in Venomian). The group consisted of former soldiers in the Cornerian military that were stationed at the base on Katina. The commander in charge of the base began to notice (and report) that a group of around 15 soldiers began to make occasional unauthorized trips to Venom while off-duty. Adding to the already sinister nature of the unfolding events, a rather large amount of weapons and ammunition had gone missing. The day after the commander reported the missing items, the group mutinied against their commander and killed several soldiers (not to mention the commander) in the process. They were put on the CDF's list of armed and dangerous organizations and bounties were placed on every member's head. When the patrol force of Katina was able to kill off one of the founding members of Ħatsma, instead of breaking up into anarchy as has happened so many times before, they instantly started planning a revenge attack to honor the fallen member. Corneria officials placed security measures on all major forms of transportation, fearing an attack on Cornerian civilians. Though their fears were correct, the methods they chose to go about combating them were wrong. Ħatsma had never even thought of using any of the railways, which had since been almost abandoned by the citizens because of the unbelievable amount of security checks. Nor had they ever considered an attack on a major Cornerian road, let alone a space entry port. In the end, they went with the reliable "just go into a building with more automatic weapons than the entire Cornerian army and threaten to kill those that don't do as you say". It worked. They abducted 29 civilians and escorted them to the town of Ąngdėd in south Venom where a guarded compound was waiting for them. Authorities were quick to respond and a 5 day stand off ensued. When a failed CDF intervention managed to take the lives of 5 of the hostages but left the gunmen unscathed, the Ħatsma members moved the hostages to the northern town of Hamażąrę. After three more days, shots erupted from inside the compound. By the time the CDF blew open the door to the main room, it was too late. 46 bodies (the attackers included) lay on the ground in pools of blood, the gunmen obviously dead through self-infliction.

Citizens were outraged. Where was the military? Where were all of the safety checks then? How were they able to get through and kidnap almost 30 people without a single officer being alerted until they were on their way to Venom? Why was the CDF perfectly able to kill 5 of the hostages, but none of the gunmen? The questions continued on.

The first so-called "Katinian-Specific-Hate-Crime" was a week after the massacre. A Katinian citizen visiting his family on Corneria was fatally shot in Corneria City. Four more shootings filled the news for the weeks to come. Katinian natives were outraged, calling it civil war. The Cornerian military held several press conferences, urging citizens to be reasonable and to stop the violence. When a gun-carrying Katinian shot back at an attacker, it only helped to fan the flames of a fire that was already out of control.

"Cornerian Identification and Admittance Card, please."

Falco audibly scoffed in surprise when he heard it. The two exchanged looks.

"Excuse me?" Fox said slowly, not even close to understanding what was going on.

The officer was a bit taken back.

"Oh…" he saluted (out of respect, not requirement as Fox was not part of the Cornerian military) "Good morning, Mr. McCloud. May I see your Cornerian IDA card, please?"

"You need to see my card?"

"Yes, sir."

Fox and Falco exchanged another look.

"Okay…"

Fox pulled out his wallet and flipped through the many pieces of plastic until he reached the only one with his picture; his IDA. He had always hated that picture – it was so out of focus, it could be anybody in front of that blue background. When the officer received Fox's card, he hesitated for a moment as if expecting something to happen. He then looked up at Falco.

"Yours as well, please."

Falco's look changed from slight confusion to indignant.

"What?"

"May I have your IDA card as well, sir?"

"What? Why?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm required to check the IDAs of _everyone_ that passes."

Falco leaned in towards the sun so his face was more illuminated, as if the officer couldn't see him.

"You know who I am."

"Sir, I have orders."

"That's bull-shit. What, are you unsure that I'm from Corneria or something? Falco Lombardi. Remember; the Lylat Wars."

"Sir…"

Fox turned to Falco.

"Falco…"

"What? Why should I give my IDA if you can't even tell me why you need it?"

"Sir, I already…"

The soldier was cut off by something. To most people it would be nothing; just a random sound like leaves rustling or a truck driving over a pothole. But to someone who has spent months in combat in both close and open quarters, it was no random noise. It was a gunshot. The officer spun around and searched for the source of the noise. It found him first. The officer slumped against the driver's side door and slid to the ground with a grunt.

"Holy shit…" Fox said, as he reached for the door handle.

"What the hell?"

Before Fox could push the door open, two shots peppered the hood of the car. It was obvious that whomever was shooting was aiming at them.

"Shit; Falco, out your door."

Falco immediately clicked his door open and ducked behind the car for protection. Fox followed (after fighting for a second with the damn seatbelt) and ducked next to him. Now outside, the screams of panic and fear from the protestors became much harder to ignore. They obviously had realized that something was amiss and were reacting appropriately. Thinking quickly, Falco popped the back door open and retrieved what they always kept in the car for this exact reason. Granted, this was the first time since they were put in there 3 years ago that they needed them.

The handguns were small, but it was a hell of a lot better than nothing. The frosty morning had made them cold. Fox perched his head up slightly above the hood and surveyed the scene in front of him. There were screaming protestors running everywhere, which made spotting the person/people doing the shooting a bit harder. Falco was having no better luck spotting the shooter. He checked and double-checked every spot that looked like a good hiding place and still nothing. Three more shots hit the car causing Fox and Falco to duck down to avoid the rocket-hot laser.

When Fox emerged to continue seeking the shooter, he heard the scream. Looking to his left (where the scream originated), he saw a female civilian lying on the ground with an obvious leg wound. The bags she was carrying were strewn around her and their contents had spilled out onto the road when she hit the pavement.

"Ah, fuck…" Escaped Fox's lips as he got up from the car's protection "Cover me."

Falco nodded once and Fox darted out into the danger-zone. He ran to the fallen civilian who was clutching her leg in pain. She had obviously been hit by a laser but whether it was meant for her or for him or Falco, Fox didn't know.

"Help me…"

"Don't worry; a medic's on the way."

Fox knew that was a lie, but he wasn't sure of what else to say. She nodded and Fox started to move her behind a parked car so they both were at least somewhat protected by the unseen shooter. That's when Fox heard Falco's gun fire. He glanced up at him and noticed that he and his gun were focused on the doorway of an apartment complex across the street. Falco fired two more shots and the shots coming back at them increased. Fox knew they had found the shooter. Once the wounded civilian was as safe as he could get her, Fox unholstered his gun and began firing into the darks doorway. He couldn't make anything out (and assumed as much of Falco, too) but at least he now had a general direction to aim for. Unfortunately, they had shaken the hornet's nest.

Suddenly, gunfire erupted from the building. The sound of the gun firing was louder, the sound of the bullets ricocheting off of the pavement and vehicles was louder, and the sound of the screams from the people hit by these bullets was louder. The shooter had switched up to an automatic weapon, probably an assault rifle. Immediately, three other civilians went down. Fox and Falco both simultaneously ducked behind their respective cover vehicles to avoid getting his by the new, deadlier weapon. As Fox was about to look over the hood to see if he could get a shot at the gunman, the fourth civilian went down and landed right next to Fox's shield car. He wasn't breathing.

Fox growled in frustration and hand-signaled to Falco. Keeping an eye on the doorway, Falco opened the back door and took out the comm.-link. Fox turned back to the doorway, knowing help was on the way both for him and Falco as well as for the people lying on the street. He fired a few more shots at the doorway, but nothing happened; the bullets continued spraying out of the building. A yelp of pain rang out as a fifth civilian hit the pavement a few feet away from Fox. As if retaliating for the newly wounded person, Fox fired 5 more shots at the doorway rapid-fire. Still nothing. He continued firing at a target he couldn't even see, slowly realizing that his ammo would not last forever and would probably run out before the shooter even showed himself. Fox noticed something else, too: Falco's gun wasn't firing anymore.

Already knowing what was awaiting him, Fox turned to see Falco lying on his back, blood flowing from a wound in his chest. The comm.-link was lying on the ground; it hadn't even been turned on.

"Fuck!"

Fox's shout echoed. Instantly, Fox ran through the line of fire to get to the other car. Bullets ping'd and ricocheted around Fox as he sprinted between the two cars, ducking. Falco was unconscious and bleeding badly from the right side of his chest where a bullet had caught him near his heart. Fox grabbed his wrist and felt a weak pulse. Well, at least he was still alive. He needed help badly, though. Making sure he was low enough, Fox flipped on the comm.-link and began entering the 6-digit number for the Great Fox. A second after he punched in the third number, pain seared through his left shoulder. Shouting in pain, he dropped the comm.-link and fell onto his side. His hand snapped to where the bullet had entered and was instantly covered in blood. Gritting his teeth, he took in a sharp breath. He was losing blood at an alarming rate, just as much as Falco was. Must be the bullets, Fox thought.

As his vision began to fade, he took in another laborious breath.

The comm.-link was on the pavement, 3 numbers being displayed on the screen. A few seconds after Fox lost consciousness, the comm.-link, programmed to conserve battery life, shut off.

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Originally, I meant for this to be a one-shot but I guess I'm going to split it up into 2, maybe 3 chapters. And, by the way, this is not the multi-chapter story idea I told you about in a previous story. I still have yet to start work on that one, but I think it will be pretty cool once I do.

Well, I hope you like it and chapter two will come soon. Thanks for reading and feel free to leave your thoughts, good or bad, in the comments.

Thanks! :)


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